Nightlock Was Her Weakness
by bewaremypengirl
Summary: Thresh had saved a naïve girl in the arena from falling on her face. But is she really that naïve? And would she end up saving him? And why'd she pick him? I stink at summaries so just ignore it. T for future killing (It's the Hunger Games, people!)
1. Chapter 1

The training arena was huge compared to the small girl who stood humbly in the doorway of it. "Whoah! This place rocks!" a boy, a career, walked in from behind her, pushing her aside. She tumbles, falling face first into the sleek, cement floor. Before she hit the ground though, a foot stuck under her, and held her inches from the floor. She cast a look up, to find a huge, muscular form, sulking over her, making her hover, and yet not even looking her direction. "Thresh, come on!" a little girls voice called from ahead. "Coming…" he murmured, still seeming perplexed about something in the opposite direction of where she was. He looked down at her, and made a small sound in the back of his throat, somewhere in between clearing his throat and growling. She suddenly remembered that he was holding her up with his foot, which had a very rough sneaker on it, thus, providing a very uncomfortable environment for the girl below. She got up and was sure she had blushed, making her seem much more dumb and naïve than she was. "Finch" she mumbled up at him, seeing that he was very much so a good many inches taller than her. He didn't acknowledge that she had said anything, but instead walked back over to the very impatient 12-year-old girl still waiting for him at the other end of the arena.

_Thresh. _She spoke the word silently, over and over, almost as if she was trying to taste it. Her name was Finch. A perfect fit for a smart girl who has studied plants and animals all her life, and would much rather come from the district of agriculture and grain that the district of power and electricity. You may not know her yet, but once you hear a familiar nick-name, you will soon recognize who she is.

"Thresh, who was that?" the little girl asked Thresh on the opposite side of the arena than Finch. "No idea" he spoke the word in a quiet way, only saying few, as usual. He was still thinking about that career girl he had seen. She had been offered a multiple choice of weapons, a spear, a bow, and a sword, and she picked up the bow with little hesitation. She picked it up, aimed it at the target dummy, and released, missing by a few meters. She mumbles something like: "Stupid Glimmer", and proceeds to the benches. _Why would she have intentionally picked a weapon she had no idea how to use when she could have had many others? _That question stuck in Thresh's head all day. So did that girl…..Finch? Her name hadn't stuck with him, but her face and fragileness had.

He picked up a weapon, threw it at a dummy, and hit it in the target on its face. He suddenly felt watched. He spun around, but found the careers just laughing at a little boy from 3 trying to light a fire. Thresh felt little pity for the weak when it came to staying alive, or dying. He turned in the other direction, to find Rue. She was pointing at him, trying to get a red-headed girl to look at him.

"Him. Right there, the one who threw a machete at the dummies face, he's the male tribute from my district" Rue tried to explain to the girl who's name she would soon know as Finch. _Thresh_, Finch felt like saying, _yes I know him._ But she just nodded and smiled at the girl. "What district are you from?" Rue asked, intently watching Finch mess around with some traps. "Five. You?" Finch replied, half watching her trap and half watching the other tributes, trying to memorize their weaknesses. "Eleven. You're really good at that. Think you could teach me?" Rue asked. "Sure. Of course." So Finch went about teaching a little girl how to kill an animal without a weapon while the rest were training to kill _humans_ _with_ weapons.

**. . .**

While the rest were taking a regular, relaxing, luxurious shower, Finch was trying to figure out how to turn it on. There were so many buttons, dials, and knobs that she almost flooded the whole bathroom. She ended up with a cold shower.

** . . .**

The next day of training, Finch took a peculiar liking to a plant machine. She had to identify the edible from the inedible plants and berries. Her hands flew through the buttons without having to think, except for one berry: Nightlock.

**Will update if you review!**


	2. So short I can't even call it a chpt2

That was her weakness. She couldn't figure out the difference between regular Blueberries and Nightlock. That would eventually be her savior and her downfall.

Thresh was a silent rebel. It was night, and he pried his room door open, by using a piece of loose metal on his bed post, to unattach the hinges. He was still deciding whether to do it or not. The thoughts mulled through his head. He finally decided: He was going to tear up the capitol garden.

The metal handle of the hoe felt cold in his hand as he gripped it in anticipation. He was going to make a statement. Like he heard the district 12 boy say earlier in the night, if they killed him, he wanted to die as himself. He made his way silently out to the garden, checked for cameras, and started to destroy. If he was going down, the capitol was going down with him.

. . .

They plucked and prodded, curled and straightened, never making up their mind. Stylists were Capitol-stricken citizens, obeying their new tastes and fashions. They changed their minds three times about what Finch should wear to her interview. They finally decided, to Finch's delight, a simple blue dress, a little short for her liking though, with curled strands of hair, and a blue choker to match.

She was being fitted for the dress when the news came, projected onto the wall by the new technology of the capitol: somebody had vandalized the Capitol's beloved garden areas. They showed pictures of the wreckage, with benches knocked over, the flowers, plants, and trees dug up and destroyed, and finally, big spray-painted letters on the side of a garden shed saying: You Die With Us, and on another building: Next Time It Will Be On Fire. Finch smiled weakly at the beacon of hope fading slowly off of the wall, that maybe, just maybe, a 'Games contestant did this.

**I know, I can't even call this a chapter...so so so sorry! I had little time to write this and needed to post another chapter for fun...hope to write more on Saturday the 22nd of March...bye? (NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LONGER! PROMISE! A LOT LONGER!)**


	3. Chapter 3

She was being fitted for the dress when the news came, projected onto the wall by the new technology of the capitol: somebody had vandalized the Capitol's beloved garden areas. They showed pictures of the wreckage, with benches knocked over, the flowers, plants, and trees dug up and destroyed, and finally, big spray-painted letters on the side of a garden shed saying: You Die With Us, and on another building: Next Time It Will Be On Fire. Finch smiled weakly at the beacon of hope fading slowly off of the wall, that maybe, just maybe, a 'Games contestant did this.

Finch had been with my designer for over an hour now, and still didn't like any of the sketches he had drawn for her chariot race outfit. They were all revealing and fancy. She needed a break from outrageous styles and absurd fashion. But in the capitol, there's no way away from it. Too many designers and plastic surgeons. Her designer had even set an appointment for her to get plastic surgery! Luckily, Finch was planning on spending the day creeping around and hiding so they wouldn't make her. There was nothing wrong with the way she looked. And some people agreed.

Thresh was pretty good at lying. He had to be, otherwise it would've been a bad decision to vandalize the gardens. With his brute strength and sly words, he was a believable suspect. Or at least they thought so. He had been interviewed a few times already to see if he knew anything, or better, knew who did it. He lied.

. . .

The day had come for her to hide out. She didn't know where she would hide, but she would have to hide well. At the moment, she was decked out behind a potted plant in the corner of the hallway. Someone was coming down the hallway, big bounding steps. "You know, you'll need a better disguise" the voice said. "Why, you can see me? Or were you looking for me?" Finch gulped, assuming they would take her away. "Why, why would I look for you? I just saw your hair….." the plant moved from in front of her face to reveal Thresh. "I'm Thresh" he said, offering her a hand. "I kno-" she just about said she knew him, but instead, "I'm Finch." "Well Finch, what are you doing here?" he asked. "Avoiding plastic surgery" she answered. "Why would you need surgery?" he questioned, smirking. "You tell me" Finch sighed, laughing a little. Pretty soon they were both chuckling and walking down the hall, away from the safety of the hiding place. Maybe light can shine through in a dark place like Panem.

**Yeah, Yeah, short again, but I'm trying to update everything tonight. I promise next time there's a chapter, I'll do the chariot races and maybe interviews right away! Hope this will satisfy you for a little bit! I still have writers block so this is a bad chapter :( XD !**


	4. Chapter 4

Thresh and Finch walked down the hallway. They were both silent for most the time, but they knew what each other were thinking. They both wondered about the same thing: who the other really was, and what they were capable of. The two came to a dead end in the hall, where a door faced them. It was District 2's sweet **(spelling?)**. They were about to turn away, when the door began to creak open behind them. Cato.

Cato was wearing a skin tight shirt, much like Thresh's, that all tributes had to wear, but his abs showed right through. He was a scrawny boy, muscles the only thing keeping you from telling he really was starving to death, even in District 2. But Thresh's biceps were almost thicker than Cato's head. "So…the two freaks are on a walk?" Cato struts around us. Thresh is about to blow, and is starting to clench his fists up really tight. "Oh, you're getting angry with me huh?" Cato smirked, shoving Thresh back an inch. Thresh couldn't take it anymore. He drew back his arm ever so slightly, and punched up-wards. Cato's teeth smashed together, his jaw forced shut. Blood was starting to leak through his lips. Thresh was going in for a second punch.

They must have had a security camera in that hall, because a moment later three Peace-Keepers came barging in, guns drawn. One took Cato, and one took Thresh. The third escorted Finch out of the situation, not minding that he was almost smashing her into the walls. That was the last Finch saw of Thresh before they were back to being tributes for what's most likely to be the rest of their lives.

**Sorry so short! I have major writers block on this story...and all the rest of my stories...yeah...bye for now...till next time...hopefully soon...more** **dots...yup...mhm..._I_'ll stop now...bye.**


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